Who Cares
by HLK21
Summary: Oliver Fay lived the most average life a teenager could live. He could only dream that something would happen. Until one day, his dream came true. After wishing on a shooting star, Oliver awoke to see seven strangers staring at him. After a lot of explaining, Oliver realized that he had woken up in the host club room from a manga he knew all too well. How will he get home?


The sound of my heart beating was enough for me to be worried. Very worried, in fact. Worried like the people who hide in closets in horror movies, but the killer is actually behind them with an extremely sharp knife or chainsaw.

The night before, I hadn't gotten any sleep. I was too deathly afraid that if I went to sleep, I would wake up somewhere else even more confusing than here. At least I knew somewhat about this place. I only hope I'm not too far into the story line. I hadn't read that far yet, and those first few chapters were all I had to go off of.

Where am I, you may ask? Currently, I'm standing in front of Tamaki's and Kyoya's first class, introducing myself as a new student. I know, it sounds ridiculous; I wouldn't believe myself either. But you gotta trust me on this one, because this would be one hell of a tale to tell in the future. I mean, if I ever got home. Which, the chances on that are really unlikely so far.

The teacher that sat at the desk beside me cleared his throat, tightening his tie before he spoke. I never got to see the teachers in the manga, but they were even scarier than I imagined. They were the typical boarding school teacher; scary, tall, angry, etc. This is not what I needed to start off my summer, if it even was summer here.

"Class, this is our new student, Oliver Fay. Introduce yourself," his voice was loud and boomed. It felt like the floor beneath me shook, like there was an earthquake or something; it almost gave me a headache…

...But it was probably because I was standing in front of rich, annoying, **actual** anime teenagers that belonged in a book, or a fictional story, call it a manga if you like. They just weren't _real _and weren't supposed to be _real.__** EVER. **_

Slightly coughing, I opened my mouth to speak. I shifted my eyes around the classroom, looking at the small groups of people that whispered to each other, probably about my hair or piercings. Maybe even my glasses. That's the things rich kids did, brag about their wealth or make the poor look bad. This manga was no exception. "Erm..."

"Oliver, words please, not mumbles." The teacher sighed, tapping his pen on the desk before writing something down in a notebook with a frown on his face. It was almost as intimidating as Kyoya's black book. Who knew what he wrote in there? Secrets? Host club plans? It might be a Death Note! Maybe even his _diary? _It sent shivers down my spine thinking about it. It was a lot more worrying than when I read it on paper.

"Right-o, sorry sir," I nervously scratched the back of my head, looking back at the crowd of people. I had to pull myself together quickly. The sooner I got this done, the sooner I would be able to go back to my apartment that somehow transferred over here with me. How? I don't know, ask the damn magic spell or whatever that sent me here in the first place! "Okay, so…My name's Oliver, as you know."

I heard a few giggles from the left of me, no doubt from dumb girls. It always happened in school manga's, so why wouldn't it happen here? This was the most annoying manga I've read, but it still surprised me. I still felt annoyed by it, very annoyed. It would be tough getting used to, but I would have to.

"I'm 19; don't ask why I'm still here. I don't know myself…" I unconsciously looked up at the ceiling, thinking of other things to say. This was a lot harder than it looked. I never had to do this at my old schools, but then again, I never went to a private school. I wouldn't survive there. Real life private schools are a lot worse than how this manga portrayed them.

It was even like traveling back in time and reliving my high school days. I had graduated not too long ago. This was like kindergarten to me, just more advanced and foreign. Maybe a little too foreign…

"What do you like to do?" A female voiced asked, probably after getting too impatient to wait for me to think of other things to say. My eyes traveled in the direction the voice came from, my vision landing on a girl sitting in the front row, smiling. I didn't bother taking in her features, they weren't important to the story anyway.

"Boring things." I didn't dare say I played the bass. That would make everything _a lot _worse. But oh, in time, the host club would find out and Kyoya would find out how to use it to his advantage.

"Why do you wear that hat?" Another girl asked, pointing to the hat I wore. Looking up at it, then back to her, I shrugged my shoulders, giving out a pretty bullshit answer. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the full truth.

"Because I don't like my hair."

Suddenly, I was bombarded with questions from the class, all wondering what my favorite things were, or what I did in my free time. I tried my best to answer as cold as possible. I had read a few fan fictions before I was teleported here or whatever, and it seemed that the rude boy always seemed to get by the easiest. Might as well follow that, since I had no idea what I was doing.

I continued to get asked questions, answering them normally. Until they started getting a little too personal and I got uncomfortable with it. I really just wanted the teacher to speak up and tell the little pests to shut up. But of course, it didn't and wouldn't happen.

"What's your family like?" Someone asked from across the room, waving their hand like an idiot. Now this, this really wasn't what I needed. I looked over at them, giving them the meanest look I could manage.

"It's none of your damn business, got it?" I practically hissed the words out, sounding a lot angrier than I thought I would. I even surprised myself, but kept my mean look on my face. I was relieved no one asked anymore questions. They probably left the answers to their imagination.

I heard a few gasps from the other side of the room, saying how awful I acted. A few girls just had to go fan girl mode, even one suggested that I was '_so very handsome~!' _I'll really have to get used to that one…

And oh, the very worst thing I could possibly hear; Tamaki's princely voice whispering quite loudly over to Kyoya, "Make sure he comes back to the host club, ASAP!"

Kyoya only nodded in return. I'm not sure how he thought I couldn't hear him, but he managed to not get anyone else's attention. Maybe he planned it from the start. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, and it probably was.

I knew I have just made my life worst here. I knew that they would somehow make me join the club. But this situation had run through my head one too many times, so I was prepared. I knew what I was going to do, sort of. I at least had an outline of a plan.

_Just follow the fanfiction, you'll be fine!_

But on the inside, I was panicking. I mean, like, really panicking. My heart beat picked up, what I was sure, a hundred times. It was like my chest was vibrating. It was a_ very_ uncomfortable feeling, and I hoped it would go away soon.

It really was like I was the victim hiding in the closet…

You're probably all wondering how I got here in the first place; to this _oh so wonderful _place called Ouran. In truth, it's not a very long story, like you were probably expecting. So let me just start from the top, first off, with an introduction.

My name is Oliver Fay, a nineteen year old used-to-be punk wannabe. I like long walks on the beach and playing bass, oh, and listening to heavy metal; and this is the story – that makes no sense – of how I ended up in a fictional manga.


End file.
